


what the doctor ordered

by vlieger



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:43:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vlieger/pseuds/vlieger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well," said Stiles, "You probably wouldn't be so grumpy if I made you up."</p><p>"I'm in hospital," said Derek blankly.</p><p>"Dude, this level of commitment to scowling takes years to cultivate," said Stiles.</p><p>"Worst candy striper ever," said Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what the doctor ordered

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [То, что доктор прописал](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1362400) by [meanwhile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanwhile/pseuds/meanwhile)



"I look ridiculous," groaned Stiles, tugging at the sleeves of his stupid candy striper outfit. "Lydia-- "

"I had those outfits custom made, Stiles," said Lydia dangerously.

"You look cute!" said Allison.

"I don't want to look cute, I want to look hot and manly, like Danny."

"Your outfits are exactly the same!" said Lydia.

"I just _am_ hot and manly, it's my thing," said Danny. "You're cute. That's your thing."

"I hate you all," said Stiles.

 

"Seriously," said Stiles, as Lydia divided the dumb carts with the dumb books and dumb flowers and dumb teddy bears (okay, the bears were kinda cute) between them. "This isn't even a thing dudes do."

"Yes it is, you have a uniform," said Lydia.

"You had it made," said Stiles, glaring at her.

Lydia flipped her hair. "Are you trying to belittle my efforts to reinstate a disgustingly misogynistic tradition with class and legitimacy?" She narrowed her eyes dangerously.

Stiles sighed. "I hate you," he said to his cart.

"Uh huh," said Lydia. "Go cheer up sick people."

 

Stiles' first patient was-- oh, wow, a _ridiculously_ attractive dude who glared at him the second he made his presence known. Stiles knew the feeling.

The guy had his leg in a cast, propped up on a pillow on the bed. He was wearing basketball shorts and a tank top, and neither of them did anything to hide his stupidly muscular physique-- Stiles' brain was a flashing neon sign of _thighs!_ and _biceps!_ and he was pretty sure he wound up staring like a moron.

Or a creep. Possibly both.

"Uh," he said, blinking and clearing his throat. He glanced at the board above the bed. "D. Hale! What can I do to make your day brighter?"

"Get out?" suggested D. Hale, raising an eyebrow. 

"Sorry, no can do," said Stiles. "Well, at least until you take a book or something. It's my first day, I need to impress."

"By imposing yourself on unwilling patients?" said D. Hale.

"You're kind of a sourpatch," said Stiles musingly. It made sense; there needed to be _something_ to balance out all of-- that. Those cheekbones and that stubble and the eyes Stiles found himself actually physically leaning towards, trying to catalogue the colour: something between green and grey and hazel, iridescent and utterly mesmerising. He caught himself and cleared his throat again, kind of horrified. He flushed. "So, broken leg, huh?" he added stupidly.

"Wow," said D. Hale, looking at him flatly. "Genius."

Stiles ignored the sarcasm and said, "So how come you're in hospital, dude? I mean, not to trivialise your undoubtedly manly wound or whatever, but aren't broken legs a thing you can recover from at home?"

D. Hale scowled like maybe he thought the same thing, and shrugged. "I'm being monitored," he said. "For infection."

Stiles tilted his head. "Okay, sure," he said. "But you know hospitals are like, breeding grounds for bacteria? Should've just made them give you a buttload of antibiotics and send you home."

D. Hale stared at him. "Isn't it your job to cheer people up? You're pretty bad at it."

"First day," Stiles reminded him, shrugging easily.

"Great," said D. Hale dryly.

"Besides," added Stiles. "You don't really look amenable to being cheered up, dude."

D. Hale just scowled at him, which made Stiles laugh.

"So," he said, perching on the arm of the chair by D. Hale's bed. "How'd you manage to break a leg and put yourself in mortal danger of deadly infection at the same time?"

"You use a lot of words," said D. Hale accusingly.

Stiles waved a hand. "'S who I am, I've owned it. Stop deflecting, man."

D. Hale rolled his eyes. It was kind of adorable. "Wolf," he said.

Stiles blinked at him. "Are you fucking with me right now?"

"Why would I do that?" said D. Hale, frowning at him. Stiles couldn't actually tell whether that was sarcasm or not. He was a little bit in love with this guy's dryness. 

"You got into a fight," said Stiles slowly, "With a _wolf_."

"Not on purpose," said D. Hale.

"Right, 'cause that would be crazy." Stiles rolled his eyes in turn. "How does that even happen? I'm pretty sure there are no wolves in Northern California."

D. Hale shrugged. "Escaped from a nature preserve or something," he said. "I was out running."

"Huh," said Stiles. "And all you got was a broken leg?"

"It broke it _with it's mouth_ ," said D. Hale, glaring at him. "It could have been rabid."

"Right, but just your leg?"

D. Hale huffed like his life was the worst and lifted his tank top, which-- Stiles' mind was blissfully full of nothing but _oh holy god muscles_ for a long moment before he registered the bandages.

He could see something that looked like slashes from a sharp set of claws through the clear tape and gauze, curving over the ribs high on D. Hale's left side. 

"Shit, man," he said, wincing. "Okay, I see why they kept you in. Possibly rabid wolves, very hospital-worthy."

D. Hale huffed again and dropped the fabric, covering himself up. Stiles spared a moment to be devastated, then collected himself, bouncing a little. "So dude, seriously, did you kill it? Did you take it's hide? Is it totally your spirit animal now?"

D. Hale just stared at him. Stiles sighed.

"The cool factor is totally wasted on you," he said.

"I'm in hospital," said D. Hale slowly, like Stiles was a moron. "I got attacked by a wolf."

"And came out of it with barely a scratch and a badass story to tell, come on."

"Is this your method of trying to cheer me up? It's not working."

"Thanks for the progress report," said Stiles, standing up. "Okay, I seriously gotta work, so. Book? Flowers? Teddy bears? I could get you coffee or tea, if you want."

"I'm good," said D. Hale.

"Right," said Stiles. "Awesome. Well, uh, enjoy your day?"

D. Hale just rolled his eyes.

Stiles shook his head and headed for the door. "Bye, D. Hale!" he called over his shoulder.

"It's Derek, for Christ's sake," called D. Hale-- _Derek_ \-- after him.

Stiles definitely did not do a victory fistpump in the corridor.

 

Lydia had drawn up a pretty crazy volunteer schedule for them, since it was summer break and pretty soon everyone would be scattered again, at college and jobs and stuff.

Stiles had also taken on a part-time job at a local cafe, though, which meant the next time the hospital gig came up he had to beg out, even with Lydia's threats.

"I'm sorry, Lyds," he said into the phone, tripping through the door into work. "This pays. You don't."

"Tomorrow, hospital, nine am," said Lydia sharply, and hung up on him.

Stiles spared a glare at his phone.

 

He had three missed calls by the time he finished his shift; two from Lydia, one from Danny.

"What did I do?" he said to Lydia when he returned her call.

"Nothing, Stiles," said Lydia. "Unless you have something to confess?" she added sweetly.

"Nope, nothing, what's up?" said Stiles cheerfully.

He could practically _hear_ Lydia rolling her eyes. "There was a guy asking about you today."

"What?" said Stiles. "Who? Where? Also, what?"

"At the hospital," said Lydia. "D. Hale?"

" _Derek?_ " said Stiles, boggling and thrilling all at once.

"His name is Derek?" said Lydia. "He wouldn't tell me. And then I sent Danny in because, you know, maybe he's into guys, but he wouldn't tell Danny either." She hummed thoughtfully.

"Huh," said Stiles. Something swooped, sweet and pleased, low in his stomach.

"He's very good looking," said Lydia, deliberately neutral.

"He really is," agreed Stiles vehemently.

"Did you two hit it off?"

Stiles snorted. "Right. He's the pissiest dude I've ever met. Also, _so_ far out of my league."

"I don't think so," said Lydia. "He seemed pretty annoyed you weren't there."

"I think that's his default," said Stiles. 

"Well, you clearly had some kind of effect," said Lydia. "Even if I can't fathom why."

"Hey, you love me, shut up," said Stiles, sticking out his tongue even though she couldn't see him.

Lydia just hummed vaguely. "You can see him tomorrow. Nine am sharp."

"I know, I know, no sleep for Stiles on his summer vacation."

"You're finally getting it," said Lydia, and hung up on him. Again.

Stiles really needed new friends.

He thought abruptly about Derek, and grinned to himself a little manically.

 

"Oh good, you're back," said Derek, dry as a bone, as soon as Stiles walked into his room the next day.

"Don't even front, dude, I know you were asking about me when I couldn't come in yesterday," said Stiles cheerfully. "So, still here, huh?"

"No, you're hallucinating," said Derek.

Stiles hummed. "It's entirely possible," he said thoughtfully. "You are almost too good looking to be real."

"Almost?" said Derek, raising an eyebrow.

"Well," said Stiles, "You probably wouldn't be so grumpy if I made you up."

"I'm in hospital," said Derek blankly.

"Dude, this level of commitment to scowling takes years to cultivate," said Stiles.

"Worst candy striper ever," said Derek.

"Uh huh, whatever, you love it," said Stiles. "So, can I interest you in a book today? Flowers? Maybe a nice cuddly teddy bear?"

Derek scowled at him. "No," he said.

"Coffee? Tea?" tried Stiles.

"The coffee here is disgusting," said Derek.

"Not arguing with you there, dude," said Stiles. "But, okay. Then I'm not sure what I can do for you, man."

"What do you do?" said Derek abruptly. "Apart from dressing up in ridiculous outfits and annoying sick people, obviously."

"Hey," said Stiles, pointing at him. "Lydia had this outfit custom made, and if you insult it she _will_ find out, and then she'll kill you. Painfully."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Which one's Lydia?"

"The benevolent strawberry blonde goddess," said Stiles.

"She your girlfriend or something?" said Derek, frowning.

Stiles snorted. "Yeah, right. Even if I was into girls, I could only aspire to dating someone like her. She's a certified genius, you know."

Lydia chose that moment to stick her head into the room and say, "Stiles. There are other sick people that require your attention."

"But Lyds, I'm the only one who can penetrate Derek's icy exterior and bring joy into his sad hospital world," said Stiles dramatically.

Lydia spared Derek a cursory glance.

"Also, I'm pretty sure he's the only one here who actually tolerates me," added Stiles.

"Right, you're meant for each other, got it. Sick people, Stiles."

Stiles glared at her, but she'd already disappeared.

He sighed. "Gotta go, I guess," he said to Derek. "I'll see you next time, if you're still here." He grabbed his cart and headed for the door. "I'm at college," he added over his shoulder. "Comp Sci."

 

Lydia timed the next hospital visit to coincide with the free block of time after Stiles' shift at the cafe, which he would probably be more pissed about if it didn't mean he could take a fresh cup of coffee (double-shot vanilla latte, with a couple sugar packets in his pocket, just in case) to Derek and hand it over still acceptably hot.

"What's this?" said Derek, staring at the drink in his hand.

"Double-shot vanilla latte," said Stiles. "I didn't know what you liked, but it's a pretty standard order. If you hate it just let me know, I'll bring you something else next time. Do you want sugar?"

"I-- no," said Derek slowly. "I mean, this is good. I like lattes."

"Awesome!" said Stiles, dropping into the empty chair by Derek's bed.

"Thanks," added Derek belatedly.

Stiles snorted and kicked the side of his mattress. "No problem, dude. Thought it'd do more to cheer you up than a teddy bear or shitty hospital motor oil coffee, you know?"

"You didn't have to," said Derek.

"I wanted to, moron. Shut up and drink."

Derek rolled his eyes, but took an obedient sip. "Are candy stripers supposed to be so mouthy?"

Stiles shrugged. "We're an elite unit," he said, grinning.

Derek snorted. "You're definitely something," he said. 

"Was that a semi-compliment?" said Stiles, holding a hand to his heart.

"I doubt it," said Derek.

"Ooh, burn." Stiles smirked at him. "So how's the leg going? The wolfy battle scars?"

Derek shrugged. "No infection or weird diseases yet. Should be able to go home soon."

"Sweet!" said Stiles. 

"Yeah." Derek twisted his coffee cup between his hands. He had really nice hands. "So. Comp Sci?"

"You're _inviting_ me to talk?" said Stiles, pressing a hand to his chest again.

Derek glared at him.

"Okay, okay." Stiles held up his hands, laughing. "Anyway, yeah, I dunno." He shrugged. "I like it. It's-- I was a Google wizard in high school, you know-- "

"Isn't everyone?" Derek cut across.

"Shut it, you, you haven't seen me work the machine," said Stiles, grinning. " _Anyway_ , and then my friend Danny taught me how to hack shit-- "

"Isn't that illegal?" Derek interrupted again.

Stiles glared at him. "My dad's the sheriff, I'm above the law," he said haughtily.

"I don't think that's how it works," said Derek.

"Yeah, well, what he doesn't know won't hurt him." Stiles waved a hand. " _Unlike_ the bacon I know he sneaks into his breakfast at the diner at least twice a week. Moron. But, uh. Comp Sci. It's like-- it's something I can actually focus on, which is kind of a miracle for me. I guess it's challenging and interesting and fast enough all at once that I don't get distracted. Plus it keeps my hands busy, and I'm _good_ at it. It just kind of fits, you know?" He trailed off, biting his lip.

"Yeah," said Derek quietly. "That's cool."

Stiles nodded. "What about you?" he said. "What do you do?"

Derek shrugged. "Mechanic," he said. "Nothing special."

"Dude," said Stiles. "Society wouldn't even function without you guys, come on."

He was possibly a little blindsided by the image of Derek in an oil-stained tank top, jumpsuit stripped to his waist and skin stained with grease; all the sweaty, straining muscles.

Holy shit.

Derek rolled his eyes and said, "I think you're overselling it a bit. But I like it."

"Which is all that matters," said Stiles firmly. "You should totally give me your business card or something. I have a Jeep that breaks down religiously at least once every couple of months."

Derek snorted and huffed out, "Of course," but he reached for his bedside drawers and pulled out his wallet, handing over a card that said 'Hale Mechanics' in neat lettering.

"Awesome," said Stiles. "I expect a discount."

"For one coffee?" Derek raised his eyebrows. 

"And my awesome company." Stiles grinned. "I'll even bring you another coffee next time. You want something different?"

"This is good," said Derek, shrugging.

"Coffee psychic," said Stiles, tapping the side of his nose. "You want cake or something too? I'm guessing the hospital food is about as good as the hospital coffee."

"I-- "

"Stiles!" Lydia stuck her head around the door. "Our time is nearly up and you've seen _one patient_."

"But he's a special patient!" said Stiles. Derek glared at him. Stiles smirked. "It takes time to cheer this dude up, come on."

Lydia glared at him.

"Fine, fine." Stiles stood with a sigh. "I'm surrounded by glarers. My life, man." He shook his head.

"Must suck," said Derek dryly.

Stiles pointed at him. "You want cake or not, sourpatch?"

"I like brownies," said Derek, grinning toothily.

"Brownie it is," said Stiles as he backed out of the room.

 

Their next hospital visit was scheduled for Saturday, just after the rush period of lunch. Stiles stayed up super late the night before, working on his summer project, and slept through his alarm, barely making it in time to stop by the cafe to pick up Derek's double-shot vanilla latte, as well as the promised brownie. He headed straight for Derek's room at the hospital, pulling up short when he saw that Derek had visitors: two equally gorgeous women, one sprawled out in the chair by his bed, the other cross-legged on the mattress at Derek's feet. 

"Uh," said Stiles. "Hey, Derek. Sorry, I didn't realise-- "

"My sisters," said Derek gruffly, waving a hand at them. "Cora," he indicated the girl at his feet, "And Laura," at the girl in the chair.

"Oh cool, hey!" Stiles grinned at them. "You have visitors, I don't even need to cheer you up today."

"Derek always needs cheering up," said Cora.

"Well, you suck at it," said Derek, shrugging.

Cora made a face at him. Derek rolled his eyes.

"I didn't know the hospital had candy stripers," said Laura, eyeing Stiles with a slightly terrifying gleam in her eyes. It reminded him a lot of Lydia. They should probably never be allowed to meet.

"Yeah, we're bringing it back," said Stiles. "I brought your brownie," he added to Derek, handing it over, along with the coffee. "If I'd known you'd have visitors I would've brought more."

"They don't need brownies," said Derek.

" _Derek_ ," hissed Cora. "Don't listen to him, we always need brownies," she said to Stiles.

"Then you can buy your own," said Derek.

"You didn't!" said Cora.

"My leg is broken," said Derek, taking a smug bite of his brownie.

Stiles fought down the urge to giggle. Derek with his siblings was _adorable._

Laura sighed loudly. "Stiles," she said, "I'd like to apologise on Derek's behalf for his personality. We tried to cure him of it, but it didn't stick."

Stiles laughed. "I think it was inevitable, with that face," he said.

"Oh _really_ ," said Laura, eyes lighting up.

Stiles blushed. "You know, I mean, he's really got the whole broody silent thing going on."

"I'm right here," said Derek moodily. "Also, Laura, shut up."

"Never, little bro," said Laura, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

Derek twitched away, scowling. 

"Anyway," said Laura, "I think we should leave you guys to it. Cora?"

"Definitely," said Cora, grinning.

"We'll see you 'round, Stiles. Thanks for putting up with him."

"Hey, anyone who can put up with _me_ is worth the time," said Stiles, laughing again.

"I don't put up with you," said Derek. "I'm kinda stuck here."

"Shh, sour wolf, you love my company," said Stiles easily, dropping into Laura's vacated chair.

Laura laughed loudly as she left the room with Cora.

"Your family's cool," said Stiles to Derek.

Derek shrugged. "They're loud," he said.

"Your ability to deal with me suddenly makes so much sense," said Stiles, grinning.

"That's not-- you're not-- " Derek shook his head. "You're not like them."

Stiles tilted his head.

"That's not a bad thing," added Derek.

"Another semi-compliment, sweet!" Stiles smiled at him.

Derek rolled his eyes. "What's wrong with you, anyway?" he said, narrowing his eyes at Stiles. "You look like you should be the one in hospital, not me."

"Way to invalidate the compliment, dude," said Stiles. "Coding marathon last night. I get kind of caught up sometimes, forget how long I've been at it."

"Of course you do," said Derek, sighing. He nudged the tray on his table towards Stiles. There were still three sandwich triangles nestled inside the plastic packaging from his lunch. "Eat."

"You-- are you sure?" said Stiles, blinking. Fuck, he was starving.

"I have a brownie," said Derek, lips twitching. "They're not too bad, for hospital food."

"Sweet," said Stiles, grabbing the sandwiches. "Thanks, man." He pretty much swallowed the first one whole and leaned back in the chair, sighing. "So any news on when you get to go home?" 

"Only a day or so, probably," said Derek, making a face.

"Huh," said Stiles. He didn't like the thought of Derek not being here anymore. Although he did have his business card, so he could turn up and bug him at work, although-- "You won't be going back to work straight away, will you?"

Derek looked pointedly at his leg.

"Figured," said Stiles. "What're you gonna do?"

"Recover?" said Derek.

"Well, I hope you have somewhere cheerful to _recover_ , or I might have to warn my dad about some upcoming violent crimes brought on by cabin fever and lack of interesting surroundings."

Derek tilted his head. "What if I don't?" he said, eyeing Stiles.

Stiles bit down on his lip. Was that-- it _almost_ sounded like flirting. He shrugged as casually as he could manage. "We don't do house calls, but I could be persuaded," he said. 

"Huh," said Derek. His eyes dropped to Stiles' mouth.

Stiles shifted in his seat. He could-- he could go over there and-- and kiss Derek, maybe climb up over his thighs on the bed and lean into his stupidly sculpted chest, lick into his mouth-- 

"Stiles!" snapped Lydia. " _Patients_."

Stiles groaned, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Derek looked away, cheeks pink.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," said Stiles.

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him, but left.

"Okay," said Stiles again. "I, uh, I gotta go, obviously, but I'm gonna do something possibly really stupid, and if-- if it is, then you can just tell the nurses you don't wanna see me next time and I won't-- "

"Stiles," said Derek.

"Yeah," said Stiles stupidly. He got up and stepped close to Derek's bedside, cupping a hand over Derek's tilted up jaw and leaning in to kiss him, just a soft press of lips and a shivery scrape of Derek's stubble against his skin.

He went to pull away, but Derek's hands came up to bunch in his dumb candy striper shirt and _tugged_. Stiles stumbled, opening his mouth in surprise and bracing his other hand on Derek's solid shoulder. Derek took the opportunity to lick into his mouth, make the kiss hotter, wetter.

Stiles made a totally involuntary noise and kissed him back hard and eager, fingers digging into Derek's skin, nose nudging his cheek, all slick, delicious pressure against his lips. 

Derek _bit_ down on his bottom lip and Stiles actually whimpered, pulling away.

"Okay," he said, breathing harshly. Derek's lips were slick and pink, and Stiles didn't want to stop kissing him at all, ever. "Wow. I really hope you don't have some kind of lupine disease, 'cause that'd definitely suck. And be a total mood killer. Not that-- uh. Not that I think you're diseased! Sorry. I'm gonna stop now, because I-- actually, I can't think of a good enough reason, except that Lydia will definitely kill me, and then I won't be able to make out with you anymore, so."

Derek huffed a laugh, smoothing out the front of Stiles' shirt and running a thumb over Stiles' slick bottom lip. Stiles shivered. "Go cheer people up, Stiles," he said. "I'll be here."

"Yeah, you will," said Stiles, grinning at him. "Okay. Awesome."

The smile Derek gave him then was so bright and _beautiful_ , Stiles actually stumbled a little on his way out of the room, heart beating hummingbird fast, crazy and happy.

"Have a nice day, D. Hale!" he called.


End file.
